


Responsibilities of a King

by Androgynonymous



Category: The Hobbit (Jackson Movies), The Hobbit - All Media Types, The Hobbit - J. R. R. Tolkien
Genre: Basically Thorin just sucks a lot of dick, Face-Fucking, Group Sex, M/M, Multi, Oral Sex, Plot What Plot/Porn Without Plot, Public Sex, Throne Sex
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-11-23
Updated: 2015-11-23
Packaged: 2018-05-03 01:25:39
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,607
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/5271350
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Androgynonymous/pseuds/Androgynonymous
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>A good king serves his people.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Responsibilities of a King

Thorin only relaxes once he’s got the first cock in his mouth.

It’s Balin’s, which they’d planned specifically. Balin has indulged him in this before, when Thorin has been angry and needed something to calm him down. He can’t quite remember how they came to the discovery that dick sucking was the best method, but he’s glad that they did.

Balin’s cock is long and familiar, and Thorin can hear him sigh as he takes it deep into his mouth. He can feel the weight of a thousand eyes upon him, but he ignores it in favour of bobbing his head and sucking gently, the sensation of Balin’s dick soothing in his mouth. Hands come to rest lightly on the top of his head, and Thorin moves his eyes upwards to find Balin’s face, letting out his own contented sigh when he sees that Balin is smiling gently at him. His eyes droop closed in pleasure as fingers begin to brush through his hair, not tugging or even guiding, but just stroking gently and allowing Thorin to set the pace.

It doesn’t take long for Balin to finish, spilling into Thorin’s mouth with another soft sigh. Thorin swallows it all down with a quiet moan, giving a few more gentle sucks before pulling off to rest his head against Balin’s thigh while the old dwarf catches his breath.

But they can’t stay there forever; Thorin has more work to do.

He shuffles back on his knees to let Balin clamber out of the throne. It’s Bofur who replaces him, and Thorin finds himself smiling gratefully. They had no set plan, other than starting with Balin, but Thorin is glad that the cheerful miner has chosen to go next because he’s certain that Bofur won’t change the lazy mood too rapidly.

He’s right; Bofur guides him gently with a hand on the back of his neck, but mostly lets Thorin figure out the speed. Bofur’s cock is a little shorter than Balin’s, but it fits well in his mouth all the same. He’s more vocal than Balin too, praising Thorin whenever he swallows and groaning lowly at the hands rubbing smooth circles over his thighs.

He’s not expecting it when Bofur pulls out and begins to stroke himself quickly. He probably should have been, because what’s about to happen is hardly uncommon at this particular ceremony, but he still moans unhappily and has to fight against his instinct to just push forward and take Bofur’s cock in his mouth again. Bofur comes on his face before he really gets the chance, and Thorin closes his eyes as he feels it splash across his cheeks and roll down into his beard.

Óin and Glóin are next, one after the other, and both of them well endowed enough to make Thorin choke a little as he tries to take them in fully. It’s good though – not just the heavy weight of their cocks in his mouth, but the knowledge that his subjects are witnessing this, that they can see how well he is able to serve his people.

They come on his face too, and he thinks he must be dripping with it by now, but he has no time to think about that when Ori is already perched on the edge of the throne in front of him. He leans forward to take the young dwarf in his mouth, but a small hand catches his shoulder and he glances up to see the Ori peering at him tentatively.

“Will you please hold me down?” he whispers, clearly a little embarrassed at the request.

Thorin smirks widely and lasciviously at him, grasps his thighs firmly and shoves him back in the throne. He takes Ori’s cock fully into his mouth and sucks, bobbing his head quickly up and down in a harsh, fast rhythm, his arm planted solidly across Ori’s stomach to stop him from moving. The younger dwarf practically howls at Thorin’s rough treatment, his hands clutching desperately to the king’s broad shoulders.

In no time at all he finishes in Thorin’s mouth, but Thorin doesn’t stop. He sucks at Ori until the scribe’s hands are trembling against his shoulders, breathless wails ringing out across the hall as he struggles to compose himself through the aftershocks. He keeps the young dwarf pinned beneath his arm, plans to continue until Ori is a boneless mess underneath him, but a strong hand grips his hair firmly and yanks him back. Thorin looks up to see Dori replacing his brother in the throne, his hand still clasped firmly on Thorin’s head.

“I thank you for honouring my brother,” Dori says formally, “but he’s done with you now.”

Thorin nods obligingly – he’s here to serve their needs, after all – and leans forward to take Dori’s cock between his lips. The hand on the back of his head doesn’t budge, and Thorin finds himself stopping just short of his goal. He looks up at Dori, and finds the older dwarf scrutinising him sharply.

“Restraint,” says Dori, primly. “You may use your tongue, for now.”

Thorin abruptly realises that he’s being punished for pushing Ori so far. He nods again – in penance this time – and pushes his tongue out to touch the tip of Dori’s cock. Dori pulls him forward, and Thorin slathers his tongue across the head before licking along the entire length of it. He keeps this up for some time, enjoying the way the old dwarf’s cock tastes. All the same, it is not quite as satisfying as having a cock fill his mouth, and Thorin looks up at him pleadingly.

“Oh, go on then,” Dori says with a roll of his eyes, and Thorin immediately returns his mouth to the head, sliding his lips down Dori’s shaft with a satisfied groan. He makes to pull back and start bobbing in Dori’s lap, but that strong hand still grips his head. He whines a little, but Dori shushes him and slowly but firmly pushes him down, so that more of his dick slips into Thorin’s mouth. He doesn’t stop until Thorin’s eyes are watering, the entire length is buried down his throat.

“Suck,” says Dori, and Thorin tries his best.

It’s hard to stay focused after that; Dori comes in his mouth, and is replaced by Bifur and Nori in quick succession, but Thorin is mostly lost to the sensation of cock shoving down his throat. It’s easier with Bombur, who keeps a hand planted firmly in his hair but lets Thorin do all the work, giving him the chance to suck and lick and move as he pleases again. He reaches out for Thorin’s hands to help him out of the chair once he is done, and Thorin finds himself smiling at the intimacy and trust implied in that gesture.

It’s short lived though, because a hand grasps him suddenly by the throat and pulls his head back around. Dwalin is standing in front of him, cock angry and erect, and Thorin can feel his mouth water just looking at it. He waits as patiently as he can for Dwalin to sit back on the throne but it never happens, and eventually Thorin drags his eyes away from the erection right in front of them to look up at his best friend’s face.

Dwalin sucks in a low breath when their eyes meet. “You look good on your knees, Thorin.”

Thorin shivers. Dwalin’s other hand comes to rest on the back of his head, and the fingers on his neck climb slowly upwards towards his aching jaw.

“Open,” orders Dwalin, and Thorin does so without any conscious thought. Broad fingers slip inside his mouth, and Thorin slicks his tongue around them lewdly. Dwalin looks at him consideringly for a moment before drawing out his fingers, moving his hand to join the other on the back of Thorin’s head.

“I’m going to fuck your pretty little mouth,” he growls, and Thorin whines.

Dwalin fucks him thoroughly and brutally, making Thorin choke on the length of his cock. His hands hold Thorin still, hips snapping back and forth against his face and balls slapping against his chin. Thorin’s throat feels raw, and he can feel tears streaming down from his eyes and mingling with come still on his face, but it’s absolutely worth it when Dwalin finally comes in his mouth. He moans loudly and swallows as much as he can before Dwalin pulls him back, panting from the overstimulation.

Dwalin’s hands rest on his head, and Thorin glances up in confusion after a while when his friend doesn’t move, wondering why no one has yet replaced him. Dwalin just quirks his lips in a small smile, and Thorin suddenly becomes aware that the hall around him is filled with applause. He must be finished.

“Alright?” asks Dwalin, just loud enough for Thorin to hear him over the din. He nods breathlessly, and his friend steps back a little, holding out a hand to help him up. Thorin takes it gratefully, and allows his friend to lead him back towards the throne. His Company clamour around him eagerly once he is sat, and as much as he wants to indulge them now his throat feels raw, and he needs to have a drink first.

Balin seems to understand, and from somewhere produces a tankard filled with water, handing it over to Thorin with a murmured, “In your own time, laddie.”

Thorin nods and drinks deeply, fully intending to take his time about things. After all, a king serves his people just as they serve him, and he’s looking forward to savouring their devotion.


End file.
